


Harry Potter and the Cliché Stew

by JoeHundredaire



Category: Destiny (Video Games), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel (Comics), Star Wars - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe, Harems, Multi, Polyamory, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-06-08 18:12:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15249045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoeHundredaire/pseuds/JoeHundredaire
Summary: Harry Potter dies. And then finds out he wasn't supposed to die. And gets sent back. And gets rich. And marries a bunch of women. Who don't fit in at all. Sound familiar? It should.





	1. Not So Dearly Departed

**Author's Note:**

> Title: _Harry Potter and the Cliché Stew_  
>  Author: JoeHundredaire  
> Rating: R/FR18/T  
> Disclaimer: I was planning to do more than a blanket 'not it!' for this story, but not only would that give away some plot twists but… well, some of the rights in question are complicated to untangle and attribute. At any rate, J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter universe, including everyone and everything that's a part of it. Anything else you recognize? Not mine, don't sue, et cetera and so forth.  
> Summary: Harry Potter dies. And then finds out he wasn't supposed to die. And gets sent back. And gets rich. And marries a bunch of women. Who don't fit in at all. Sound familiar? It should.  
> Joe's Note: This story will be very loosely based on… well, a whole lot of stories in the Harry Potter fandom at present, as it was created specifically to mock some of the more overused clichés in what pops up on the 60,000+ word section of FanFiction.Net these days. So, to repeat in case you missed what I said in the last two lines, this is not a story meant to be taken seriously. I've got elements of at least four different eyeroll-worthy overused plots in here, mushed together into one - hopefully - hilarious mess:  
> 1.) An unusual individual or group gets dropped into Hogwarts/the wizarding world and has to integrate. Some manage it, although that's the minority of stories. Others aren't so good at blending in.  
> 2.) Harry dies, meets 'Death', and gets sent back to unfuck his life as well as deliver a story with heaping spoonfuls of H/Hr - mostly owing to the fact that the majority of these stories stem from the same H/Hr-shipping challenge - along with Weasley bashing and either a worthless or bashed Dumbledore as well.  
> 3.) Harry goes to Gringotts after Sirius dies and finds out - among other things - that he has to marry several women for some reason: he's the heir to multiple family lines that all want to be individuated by him taking wives and having heirs for them, Sirius was in that situation and it's since been passed to Harry, he's the Heir to the Founders, some combination of the above or even all three. Generally, since this involves lots of special inheriting and all, it goes hand in hand with…  
> 4.) Harry goes to Gringotts after Sirius dies and finds out that he's not only inherited some money, property, and/or titles from Sirius, but that he's ludicrously rich in his own right because the Potters have vast wealth he was never told about by anyone.  
> Well, there will be no Harry/Hermione, minimal Weasley bashing, and Dumbledore is only bashed because… well, Rowling insisted on turning him into the puppet master of her books; there's really no way to criticize anything that happened in any of them in-story without it being a bash of Dumbledore. And finally, I know my selection of crossovers is… eclectic. I'll do my best to introduce everyone so you don't need to pop open four or five wikis to enjoy the story.  
> Dedications & Thanks: To Alexander, Nick, Nathan, MJ, Jessica, Ken, Aaron, Daniel, Vi9, William, Koby, Wil, Thomas, Christopher, Juan, Mitch, and Jess for sponsoring me on Patreon, and making it easier for me to spend more of my time writing.

 

Bellatrix Lestrange leapt to her feet, chest heaving as she panted and looked from Voldemort to Harry and back with a maniacal gleam in her eye… the only look she was capable of, Harry Potter was honestly beginning to believe. Save for her, the clearing was almost motionless; the only things that moved were the flames and Nagini, slowly slithering back and forth in the cage behind Voldemort's head as she eyed Harry.

Even as fast as he was and as adept at dodging spells as he'd become, Harry made no attempt to draw his wand and deal with Voldemort's living horcrux. The snake was too well defended even without being overtly protected; firing a spell at Nagini meant firing a spell at Voldemort, who would undoubtedly assume that he was the one under attack and counter with a shield. Harry, in turn, would be hit with the fifty or so spells sent by the Death Eaters in defense of their master. A lose-lose situation of the highest order.

And so instead Harry continued to hold Voldemort's gaze, until the older man tilted his head a little to the side and a singularly mirthless smile curled his lipless mouth. "Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived, as they say."

None of the Death Eaters moved; they clearly knew their master had something planned but it was just as clear that they had no idea what that plan was. Off to one side, Hagrid was struggling and then Harry's eyes landed on Bellatrix, and for some reason he couldn't help thinking of Ginny and the blazing look in her eyes when she felt passionate about something and the feel of her lips on his…

Slowly, Voldemort raised the Elder Wand, his head still tilted to one side like a curious child, perhaps wondering what would happen if he proceeded. It was a valid question in Harry's mind; Voldemort had tried it once at Godric's Hollow and had his body destroyed, tried it again in the graveyard and been affected by _Priori Incantatem_ … would a third try with his new wand kill Harry as Dumbledore claimed was necessary, or result in another failure in front of all the remaining Death Eaters? Whatever was going to happen, Harry decided as he met those inhuman red eyes again, he wanted it to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand proudly, before he lost control, before he betrayed fear…

Voldemort's mouth moved and there was a flash of green light and then everything was gone…

* * *

"…so let me get this straight. I've died over thirty times so far since entering the wizarding world, some of those times supposedly more hilarious than others. Not really seeing how me dying could ever be considered funny, but maybe that's because it's me. At any rate, every time I die, I end up here talking to you and you send me back to try things again with a subconscious suggestion implanted so I don't die the same way again. Last time you even sent me back with all of my memories and some extra magical knowledge so I could finally beat Voldemort once and for all. Which should have done the trick, except Dumbledore used legilimency on me and then obliviated me because he was so sure that I had to die for Voldemort to be defeated that he didn't want me to even think there was an alternative. Thing is, he's completely wrong and so my sixth and seventh years have been a waste every time I make it that far. Oh, and to top it all off, my whole relationship with Ginny was a lie and she's been dosing me with a list of potions a mile long since the summer before my sixth year. Does that sound about right?"

So far, Harry's time in the Nexus - a stopover point for those between life and death because it was evidently a common enough thing that they needed a place for people like him - had been a mixture of boredom, irritation, disbelief, and depression. After being hit by the Killing Curse, he'd woken up in an all-white waiting room where a doppelgänger had helped him to his feet before proceeding to make a really stupid joke about being 'beside himself'. Following that little bout of bizarreness, Harry had whiled away the better part of half an hour watching the various occupants of the room, some of whom were human while others were most definitely not. The majority of the non-humans had been unfamiliar to him even after seven years in the wizarding world, making him wonder what they were and where they were from. In the human portion of the crowd, he'd found at least a dozen other copies of himself… which was actually more disturbing in his book than the random non-humans with blue skin or feathers or gills.

When he'd grown bored with that, he'd decided to take one of the few empty seats he could find, spending some time eyeing the gorgeous redhead he'd ended up sitting beside because… well, she was gorgeous. Then his Reaper had come to collect him from the waiting room and called the girl by name… and sweet Merlin, he still felt sick for being that attracted to a female version of himself. They'd spent a few minutes wandering through what had seemed like an endless, doorless white hallway before stopping in front of a random spot. A portal had opened to allow them to enter a rather spartan, very white office and he'd been sitting there ever since having all his preconceived notions about the last seven years of his life systematically destroyed.

His Reaper Michelle - she evidently had some sort of issue with the ‘angel’ in her official Angel of Death title because her ‘work clothes’ forced her to hide her wings - seemed to be having a disturbing amount of fun doing it, too. "That's the long and short of it. Although technically it was only Ginny's plan. She convinced Dobby that she was 'the great Harry Potter's future Missy Potter' and that if he helped her push things along and keep 'evil girlies' away, she'd make sure you hired him on to care for your family. She was even picking out names for the kids. So, if I were you? I'd talk to Dobby ASAP about what plans 'the great Harry Potter' actually has for his future. And obviously you should avoid any food or drink she tries to serve you at the Burrow if you visit. But ickle Gin-Gin messing with your head and heart - and a few other parts of you in dark corners - is the least of your problems." Reaching up, Michelle pulled off her glasses, the black plastic frames a stark contrast to her bubblegum pink hair and matching eyes. "But don't worry, I have the perfect plan to make sure that this is the last time we ever see each other. Well, technically speaking it's not really my plan; it's a contingency plan that He came up with and jotted down in the guidebook we all work from. But since I'm going to be the first Reaper to ever use it, I can probably get away with claiming it was my idea."

"Not that I'm complaining about whatever help you want to give me, but…" Harry paused, wondering how to phrase things so he didn't unnecessarily offend the woman who held dominion over his life and death. Well, offend her or provoke another diatribe about how 'fucking retarded' he was for dying so many times in so many ways. He still couldn't believe he'd been killed by the basilisk while sneaking into Myrtle's bathroom to stir the polyjuice for Hermione, or that they'd all been crushed to death while attempting to escape Gringotts when the dragon managed to bring the entire bank down on top of them… "I mean, now that I know how far Dumbledore will go to keep me on the path he thinks I need to be on, you can just do the same thing as last time again and it'll turn out better, yeah?"

Michelle raised an eyebrow at that. "I'm not saying I don't trust you, Harry, but… actually, seeing as how we're not supposed to lie, I can't even finish that sentence. In words popularly misattributed to Albert Einstein, though? Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. To be incredibly blunt, I don't think I can trust you to do the job anymore but since someone higher up the food chain decided to bind you and Voldemort together, meaning that you're the only way I can get that fucker down playing poker with Hitler where he belongs? I'm stuck working with you. Or in this case… stuck working through you. Or around you. Whatever."

Again biting his tongue to avoid provoking another batch of insults slung his way, Harry tried to figure out where she was going with all this? "So, if sending me back with memories and spells and such is out because I already blew my chance with that, what's the plan? Are you going to assign another angel to come with me and lead me along by the nose to make sure I do everything exactly right? Because if you are, please make them visible so I don't look like I'm a loony who constant talks to thin air. You can make people think they're a student who was always there, right?" Or… oh Merlin. What if Michelle was planning to come back with him personally? Hell, he'd hunt Voldemort down by the end of the summer just to get rid of her…

"Could? Yes. Will? No. Mostly because I'm sure as fuck not going to do it, and I'm not going to ask a fellow angel to do something that I'm not willing to do. That's just rude. No, while sometimes you actually got to find out about the true extent of what your parents or Sirius left you, there's more to your inheritance than just material wealth… and I'm going to take advantage of it to stack your deck, so to speak." Slipping her glasses back on, Michelle dug through the papers in the white folder in front of her for a moment before pulling out a family tree. Dragging two fingers along the paper, she zoomed it out to show generation after generation of his ancestors up both sides of his family tree. Once she reached whatever point she was looking for, Michelle began tapping on seemingly random boxes, causing each to glow a different color and begin tracing a path downward toward where his box waited at the very bottom of the page. The longest-running and most prominent was a bright red line that ran along the left side of the tree, and Michelle ran her finger along it for a moment before launching into an explanation. "This is the line of headship for the Noble and Most Honorable House of Potter. With your grandfather an only child and dead, your father an only child and dead, and you an only child… you're obviously the heir. You also inherit the headship of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black because…" Again she used her finger to emphasize a line on the tree, this one the purple line branching off his father's box to his paternal grandmother's, Michelle's actions causing the boxes to wriggle and rearrange to make room for a whole new branch of the family tree. "…you're related to the Blacks via Dorea Potter née Black. With me so far or do I need to go back and use smaller words?"

Bristling, Harry narrowed his eyes at her. Even if she was an angel and in charge of what happened to him in the afterlife - or yet another chance at life - he'd had just about enough of the abuse. Just because he'd made a few mistakes in his life and wasn't unnecessarily confrontational didn't mean he was going to let her walk all over him, damn it. "Maybe you should repeat yourself. I got the gist of it but I think I missed some of the details. I know I heard 'when you go back, make sure you look Dumbledore in the eyes again', though…"

Rather than growing angry at him, Michelle surprised Harry by letting out a rueful chuckle and running her hand through her hair. "Touché. I'm sorry. I'm just… do you have any idea how humiliating this whole thing is for me? The only Reaper who gets less respect is Cordelia, and that's because her star client is She-Who-Chokes-to-Death-Slobbering-On-Knobs." Harry blinked owlishly and she clarified. "The redhead you were checking out? Yeah, saw her file on the way in. This is her third straight death by… shall we call it erotic asphyxiation? Turns out having something shoved down your throat for long periods of time gets in the way of breathing properly. Who'da thunk it?"

"And you say I have embarrassing deaths. At least you're not her Reaper."

"Amen to that, Harry. Amen to that. Anyways, getting back to this family tree of yours… we've established that you're the heir to the Houses of Potter and Black through your father and Sirius respectively. But this is where it gets interesting. You're not just the heir to those two families. And you're not the heir to three families, or even four. You're the heir to five separate families. Which means that there are five separate headships that you can claim if you want." Abruptly sobering, Michelle's odd pink eyes bored into Harry's. "And after you hear this plan of mine… trust me, you're going to want it." Tapping her finger against the family tree, Michelle frowned as she studied it for a long second before shaking her head and looking back up at Harry. "Doubt we really need the visual aids, to be honest. Third and fourth families are similar situations: one family married their eldest daughter and heiress into the Potters, the other merged into the Blacks. So through your father, you're actually head of the Houses of Potter and Rashleigh: your paternal grandfather's mother was the Rashleigh heiress. In the case of the Blacks, the intermarriage is a bit further up the family tree but suffice to say that you're now the head of the House of Cavendish through Sirius along with being the head of the Blacks. The fifth family… the fifth family is where it gets sticky. Have you ever heard of the Peverells, Harry?"

Harry let out a little snort at that; even though he probably shouldn't have felt quite so arrogant given that he hadn't known of them until recently, now that he was part of the wizarding majority who did… "Of course. The three brothers who received the Deathly Hallows. Well, Dumbledore thought it was more likely that they made the Hallows, but either way… Antioch with the Elder Wand, Cadmus with the Resurrection Stone, and Ignotus with the Cloak of Invisibility. I'm related to Ignotus and his cloak was passed all the way down to me. Voldemort's related to them too. What do they…" Suddenly, realization dawned and Harry let out an incredulous laugh. "Wait, let me guess. This is where you tell me that I'm either the only living descendent of any of the three brothers, or at least the one at the front of the line of succession for head of the family?"

Head bobbing, Michelle decided to change her mind and used her fingers to isolate and bring more detail to a rich gold line that ran up the left side of the tree, mostly intertwined with the red of the Potter line until it split at Osmundus Potter, the red line continuing to the left with Galfridus Potter while the gold line branched off to Osmundus's mother Dyonisia Peverell. "Long story short? Three brothers. Antioch was the oldest. He loaned the headship ring to Cadmus for his experiments with the Resurrection Stone and then got himself killed before he could reclaim it, passing the headship to Cadmus. Cadmus, contrary to popular belief, had no heirs because hello? His whole thing was wanting to see his dead fiancée again. He committed suicide to be with her, passing the headship to Ignotus. When he died, Ignotus divided the two Hallows in his possession between his two sons: his eldest became the head of the house and received the ring and the Resurrection Stone, while his younger son received the Cloak of Invisibility. The elder son's family intermarried into the Slytherin line and eventually became the Gaunts, from whom your nemesis is descended. You can see where the Peverells married into the Potters and the Cloak of Invisibility entered your family. Through some fairly complex rules of inheritance of their own making, Merope Gaunt - and therefore Tom Riddle - were ineligible to inherit any power when Marvolo and Morfin died. So now the House of Gaunt is extinct and the House of Peverell breaks itself free and reverts to its traditional rules of inheritance. Rules that put you first in line to inherit."

Harry furrowed his brow, looking back and forth between his family tree and Michelle. So what? He now had even more dead relatives - and presumably money and property - than before. How did this help him any? He'd already been rich through what he inherited from his parents and Sirius. How did being the head of five families fit into some master plan of hers? "…okay? I think I'm missing something here. Either that or you 'long story short'ed over some very important information. I knew about my family's money and the money and property I got from Sirius, but if these headships are so important, why didn't anyone ever tell me about them so I could do… whatever it is you're evidently planning for me?"

"Who exactly would have told you, Harry? The only time Hermione read up on traditional wizarding culture was when she was trying to overturn a piece of it and force modern muggle culture on the wizarding world. Maybe Ron, then, who was already jealous of your money and fame? Dumbledore, whose plans involved you being dead by twenty? Ginny knew about the loophole I'm planning to use, but that's exactly why she wouldn't have told you." Michelle used her finger to draw a series of boxes next to Harry's on the paper, linking them to his before adding a downward line from each connecting mark and attaching a box. "You having five headships matters because the wizarding world prefers those who are heirs to multiple houses to have multiple children so that those lines can emerge back into the population. A bunch of your classmates actually have younger siblings at other schools who have different last names, who were born specifically to breed out family lines that would otherwise be extinct after the first war. But - and here's the part Ginny knew and I'm going to take full advantage of - they want it so bad that they have a loophole in the law that allows you to take one wife per family to increase the odds of you getting all five of those children. And maybe even a few spares for those heirs to boot."

For some reason, Harry couldn't even bring himself to be surprised. What Michelle was saying made perfect sense, at least if you were a stuffy old witch or wizard who cared about that kind of thing. And considering they were pretty much the entirety of the Wizengamot, even when Dumbledore was alive and leading them… yeah. He really wasn't surprised in the least. "You do realize that I can't even think of… I mean, Ginny is out for obvious reasons and Hermione would be like marrying my mother and my sister at the same time. I could maybe - and I emphasize maybe - marry Luna. She might even be okay with sharing me; Merlin knows she's one odd duck. But that's only one wife. The only other girls I've ever even talked to? One keeps crying on me because I saw her last boyfriend die, and the rest are either taken or scary. And even if Hermione wouldn't feel like two flavors of incest at once, Ginny wasn't a stalker, and Cho was stable, I don't see how marrying them - and Luna - would help me any."

"Well, if you married them all, at least when you died again it might be with a smile on your face?" Michelle waited a few beats to see if Harry cracked a smile, rolling her eyes and continuing when he didn't. "Maybe I can add a sense of humor along with everything else before I send you back. At any rate, I told you that you could have up to five wives. I didn't say you'd get to pick them for yourself. I'm going to. Well, a few of us are going to. I'm teaming up with some other Reapers to find useful women who died before they were supposed to but who - at the same time - aren't critical enough to their world to be given a second go of it. We're going to offer them two choices: move on or be turned into teenage girls and sent to help you. Considering how many people pass through here, I'm sure we'll find you some qualified help in no time."

Harry couldn't help himself, his jaw dropping as he stared at Michelle in disbelief. Mostly because he'd seen some very strange stuff go by while he was out in the waiting room, and even if they picked humans? How was he supposed to explain strange new girls showing up in his life. "…you're going to what?"

Smirking, Michelle nodded in the direction of a stack of folders that were sitting on her desk next to his own, fairly thick file. "We've been compiling candidates since your twenty-eighth death just in case this came to pass. Granted they're not technically the most qualified people in existence - they're here in the Nexus after all - but we think we've found some who will work out well. Actually, we've got more than we need at this point; I'm still trying to narrow down from our twelve semi-finalists to the final five that you'll be marrying."

Again… what?


	2. 88 mph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joe's Note: Not going to lie, considering that this is a glued together sack of crap fusing a half-dozen plots that make us all roll our eyes? And that I'm essentially gambling that you'll trust me long enough to wait for all five wives to be revealed, and then in turn like my fivefold surprise crossover once it's fully unraveled? I'm honestly surprised that I've picked up as many reviews and follows as I have so far. Here's to hoping that your faith and interest are rewarded as we move forward. Time for more Michelle and then… a wife!  
> Dedications & Thanks: To Alexander, Nick, Nathan, MJ, Jessica, James, Ken, Thyatira, Daniel, Vi9, William, Koby, Wil, Thomas, Christopher, Juan, Mitch, and Jess for sponsoring me on Patreon, and making it easier for me to spend more of my time writing.

 

Smirking, Michelle nodded in the direction of a stack of folders that were sitting on her desk next to his own, fairly thick file. "We've been compiling candidates since your twenty-eighth death just in case this came to pass. Granted they're not technically the most qualified people in existence - they're here in the Nexus after all - but we think we've found some who will work out well. Actually, we've got more than we need at this point; I'm still trying to narrow down from our twelve semi-finalists to the final five that you'll be marrying."

Again… what? It made Harry wonder if maybe Michelle had been a witch before becoming a Reaper; she certainly had the 'logic' of one. But on one hand, considering his two girlfriends in his last life had been Cho and Ginny… would letting her pick out women for him to marry really be a bad thing? It wasn't like she could do any worse than a crying mess and a lunatic who'd drug him. Especially if she wanted him to live long enough to fulfill the mission she was sending him back on. The fact that they'd be drawn from the Nexus - meaning they'd also fucked up somehow and gotten themselves killed - was a little concerning, but consider he'd died over two dozen times himself… did he really have room to talk on that front?

On the other hand? Harry had no idea why he was even considering going through with Michelle's insane plan. He didn't want to be married to a stranger, much less five of them, and especially not at… Harry furrowed his brow as he did a bit of mental math. Given that she was talking about five wives and the Black and Cavendish families, he was guessing that he'd be inserted back into the past somewhere between Sirius's death and when Ginny got ahold of him. So he'd be at a minimum engaged to a bunch of women - if not married to them - at fifteen. Sixteen tops. Way too young to be married at all in his mind, much less to five women at once.

Not to mention that marriage was… while Harry would be the first one to admit that his knowledge of the wizarding world was lacking, he'd never heard a single pureblood classmate mention that their parents were divorced. But even if the law allowed it, he wasn't sure he'd want to. Words were supposed to have meaning, and pledging to stay with someone forever no matter what came one's way was something that shouldn't be done by someone not willing to fulfill that promise. Which was all the more reason not to do it with a group of veritable strangers before he even graduated Hogwarts. Sadly, Harry had the sinking suspicion that… "I don't really have a choice, do I?"

Michelle shrugged, raising one hand and wobbling it back and forth. "I suppose it depends on your definition of the word 'choice'. Technically? If you want to go back and try to fix your life, then no. You don't. This is the plan I'm going with, and you'll take your five wived polygyny and like it, damn it. But in the grander scheme of things? I guess you do have a choice, yeah. You've always made the right decision in the past, but I can let you pass on. You'll go to the afterlife, be reunited with your parents and Sirius… and leave Voldemort to take over your world, kill all all your friends, and eventually move on to take over the British muggle government. The end result of that being Britain getting bombed back into the Stone Age to keep him and his Death Eaters from crossing the Channel and causing trouble for the Europeans." She offered another shrug before smirking and gesturing to the pile of folders on her desk. "Personally, I'd take the five wives if I were you. Just think: you get to save everyone you care about from being killed by Voldemort - well, except for Sirius but he needs to die for this all to work - keep Britain from being wiped off the map, and be the envy of every male you know, all at once."

"That last part isn't really a plus, you know. I already hate being famous; giving me a new claim to fame isn't going to sway me toward what you want. But… I've been fighting Voldemort since I was eleven and gave up a lot to keep at it. Hell, I just died because I thought that was the way to make sure he could be defeated once and for all. Compared to that, five wives is… okay, I might wish I was dead if I piss them all off at once, but it doesn't sound so bad most of the time. In theory." Leaning back in his seat, Harry reached up to rub his temples. He had a 'saving people thing' according to his friends. He saved people. He got hurt to save people. He'd just died to save people. If getting married saved people… who was he kidding? He was going down the aisle. Five times, evidently. "All right, how is this all going to work? Slowly and precisely, so I don't end up back here again looking for better instructions."

Truly smiling for the first time since he'd arrived in her office, Michelle shut his far too thick file and pushed the folder off to one side before waving her hand over the cleared space. Ten rings in opened black boxes shimmered into view, grouped into five obvious pairs: one chunky, masculine-looking ring sitting alongside a slimmer and more feminine version of the same design. Two quick flicks of her wrist divided the rings into three groups: two pairs on the left, a pair in the middle, and the remaining two pairs on the right. Then, with a final wave of her hand, the ten rings rearranged themselves into two rows, all the feminine rings staying in front of her as the masculine rings moved across the desk toward him. "From left - my left, that is, meaning your right - to right, we have the rings for the Houses of Potter, Rashleigh, Peverell, Black, and Cavendish. The Potter and Rashleigh rings will be available to you right away; I'd suggest going to Gringotts and getting them as soon as you can after I send you back. The Black and Cavendish rings will have to wait until the execution of Sirius's will, when you officially inherit everything else he left you. The Peverell ring… well, Dumbledore told you where he found it. It's still there. Just try not to get killed retrieving it, yeah?"

Harry rolled his eyes; he'd seen Dumbledore waste away under the curse that protected Voldemort's horcrux. And the headmaster was far more powerful and knowledgeable than Harry was. Of course he'd be careful retrieving the ring. "So to make sure that I have this all straight… step one: I go to Gringotts, talk to one of the goblins about my inheritance, and pick up the Potter and Rashleigh rings. Step two: go to the reading of Sirius's will, inherit control of two more families, and pick up their rings. Step… either one and a half or three, depending on how things play out: go to the Gaunts' shack and retrieve the fifth ring. Third ring. Whatever." Pausing, Harry raised an eyebrow and waited for Michelle to nod in assent before continuing. "But once I have all five rings, then what? Are you going to send me back to Earth, I'll wake up with five strange women around me, and they get their rings as I find them? Or is this going to be like the horcruxes all over again and I'll need to track them down? Except wait. If you're picking them from the people that show up here, there's no saying they're even people from my world…"

"Well, it could be fun to send you on a race around the world to find five Sleeping Beauties you need to kiss and wake up or something like that, I'm not going to be that mean. After all, it took you a year to find the four horcruxes. At that rate, you wouldn't find your last wife until Halloween of seventh year, assuming you started as soon as I sent you back. No thanks." Picking up the Potter ring, Michelle held it up as she continued to speak. "No, this is where the rings become important. Each house has a master's ring and a mistress's ring. As in master and mistress of the house, not what 'mistress' usually means today. If an unmarried man assumes control of a house, the ring for the mistress of the house is absorbed into the master's ring for storage until it's needed again. Seeing as how you're not married at the moment, the instant you put each ring on, it'll seek out and recall the mistress's ring for you." Slipping the master's ring for the House of Potter onto her own ring finger, Michelle brought her hand up to eye level and stared at the ring intently as it resized itself to fit her slimmer finger. Suddenly her eyes bled white, glowing and pulsing with energy as she did… something. When the glow died down, she tugged the ring off and replaced it on the desk. "One down, four to go. I'm going to tweak the magic of each ring for you. The mistress's ring won't be the only thing stored inside of each ring of yours; your wife for that house will be too. The goblins will tell you that you can focus on the need for a ring for your wife to wear and the mistress's ring will emerge; in this case, focus on the need for the mistress's ring and a wife to wear it, and my tweak to the magic will do its job."

Seeing as how she'd already apparently finished with it, Harry picked up the Potter ring and slid it onto his own ring finger, marveling yet again at how casually magical pretty much everything in the wizarding world was as it resized itself to his finger. That would have been a week or two's work in the muggle world, maybe less if one had a lot of disposable money and was willing to throw it at a competent jeweler. Was there anything that wizards and witches didn't put magic on to avoid needing to do work? Shaking his head, Harry forced his brain back toward the topic at hand. "That's it? A woman will just appear out of thin air and she's the one who'll be my wife for that particular family or house or whatever you want to call it?" Michelle nodded and Harry let out a low chuckle. "And together the six of us find the horcruxes, destroy them, and then defeat Voldemort, all without getting killed or obliviated by Dumbledore. Well, I don't see how I could possibly mess this one up. Anything else or do I go back now?"

Michelle tapped her fingers against the desk for a moment before snapping. "Oh! Two things. One: the goblins have curse-breaking services. Remember, Bill and Fleur worked for them? There's a reason that even the most bigoted pureblood will go to them for their needs: they're the best. Keep that in mind." Harry nodded slowly and then he realized what she was trying to say: cursed ring, curse breakers, take the Peverell ring to Gringotts instead of trying to break the curse himself. After all, if Dumbledore couldn't do it… "And two: you're going to be fifteen going on sixteen again when you get back. That's losing two years of age for you. Depending on who we pick for you, some of these women might be shedding decades or more to become your wives. There might be a bit of… turbulence… as they get used to it. Try and be supportive."

"Get Gringotts to remove the curse from the ring horcrux so I can wear it and don't be an arse to my wives while they get used to their second pass through puberty. Got it. Well then. I'm ready to go, I think. See you in another two years?" Michelle's eyes narrowed and Harry sighed. "I try making a joke for once…"

* * *

"…I'm looking forward to seeing Missus Malfoy's face when her son gets off the train."

"Goyle's mum'll be really pleased, though. He's loads better looking now." Harry blinked rapidly and looked around as he tried to get his bearings, figuring that he'd just zoned out for a bit on the ride back to King's Cross, and then it all came rushing back to him. Dying again. Meeting his Reaper. Being sent back to the end of fifth year to try things over yet again. And… judging by the conversation, he'd just missed getting to watch the DA members take on Malfoy and his bookends. Damn. That had been hilarious. Ron coughed to get Harry's attention before jerking a thumb back down the hall in the direction of their compartment. "Anyways, the food trolley's just stopped if you want anything. Thought you might want to stock up before you go back to the muggles and all."

Not that Harry had any plans to return to 'the muggles', but Ron didn't know - or need to know - that. He opened his mouth to thank his friend for the consideration before realizing something: given his utter lack of money, the only way Ron got stuff from the trolley was if Harry bought some and he stole it. So it wasn't so much that he was trying to help Harry as he was trying to help himself to some free treats. Lovely. Or maybe he was just seeing manipulation everywhere after his conversation with Michelle. Shaking his head, he gestured for Ron to precede him as they headed back toward the compartment. Squeezing in around the food trolley, Harry bought a handful of chocolate frogs and cauldron cakes just to keep up appearances before settling in.

With a return to more positive reporting, Hermione had renewed her subscription with the _Daily Prophet_ and was hidden behind her copy of that day's issue. Ginny had evidently liberated Luna's copy of _The Quibbler_ and was doing a quiz while the blonde stared intently at Neville's _Mimbulus mimbletonia_ , humming along softly to the crooning noises it made as he stroked it. Having long ago - at least from his perspective - learned the futility of playing chess with Ron, Harry opted to instead just sit back and enjoy the ride, listening as Hermione read snippets from the _Prophet_ aloud to them: supposed 'tips' on how to repel dementors that Harry knew wouldn't do a damn thing in real life, articles detailing the Ministry's bumbling attempts to try and track down Death Eaters, and a hysterical letter claiming that the author had seen Lord Voldemort walking past their house that very morning. Sighing, Hermione closed the newspaper and folded it in half, placing it neatly in her lap. "It won't be long now, will it? The second war is about to start…"

Before Harry could respond, Ron nodded toward the glass window that looked out into the corridor. "Hey, Harry." Harry followed the redhead's line of sight, watching as Cho slowly walked past their compartment, accompanied by the balaclava-clad Marietta. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments and then Cho blushed before speeding up, disappearing out of sight down the hallway. Shrugging it off, Harry turned his attention back to the compartment only to find that everyone's attention was on him now. "What's, err, going on with you and her anyways?"

"Nothing." Which had been the truth the first time around and was definitely true now; even if Harry had any inclination to give Cho another chance, he had five wives on the way with five weddings to follow. And while he was no love expert, Harry somehow doubted that any girl would want to go out on a date with someone who already had that many women in his life. Okay, maybe a few girls would. Like that blond Scottish witch from the last issue of _Playwizard_ that Seamus had loaned him. But not Cho or any of the other girls at Hogwarts.

Probably.

He hoped.

"I heard she's going out with someone else now." Harry looked over at Hermione and raised an eyebrow, waiting until the brunette broke eye contact and looked away before letting out a soft snort. Even in his last life, when he hadn't been worrying about the impending end of his bachelorhood, Sirius's death had caused a major shift in his priorities. Impressing Cho had gone from close to the top to firmly at the bottom. Considering he'd had no interest in her at this point in his last life, and that hadn't changed in this go around? Good on her for finding someone to give her what she needed. Or wanted. Either way, she deserved to be happy and since it sure as hell wasn't going to be with him, he was perfectly fine with her seeking happiness elsewhere.

Of course Ron had to add his two knuts to the conversation and, given the source, they were predictably shallow. "You're well out of it, mate. I mean, she's one fit bird and all that, but you want someone a bit more cheerful. Especially with… well, you know. You need someone to have fun with when you can, yeah?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah." And since he really had no desire to sit through a rerun of the events he knew were coming - Ginny trying to make him jealous, Ron simultaneously trying to be an overprotective older brother while shoving him and Ginny at each other for some reason known only to him, the others watching the whole spectacle like a five car pileup on the motorway… - he rose to his feet and flipped his last chocolate frog to Ron. "Not sure why, but I've got way too much energy today. Don't feel like sitting here for another hour just doing nothing, so I think I'm going to take another walk. Say hi to more people from the DA and all." Ron opened his mouth and Harry waved him off, reasonably sure of what his friend was going to say. "Don't worry, with Malfoy and his stooges taken care of, I don't think I'll have any other problems. Be back in a bit."

* * *

Pulling her head out from under Harry’s chair, Michelle growled loudly before pounding her fist on the floor. "I can't believe I didn't notice that he never gave me the ring back. Maybe the Sorting Hat was on to something when it wanted to put him into Sly… nah. I'm just having an off day. Still. Damn. Well fine. He wants to play games? Wait until he sees who starts coming out of those rings. Then we'll see who gets the last laugh. Where's that pile of folders for women I rejected because they wouldn't blend in…"

* * *

Contrary to what he'd told Ron, though, wandering the train wasn't at all what Harry had in mind. Shutting the door behind him as he exited the compartment, Harry turned and hustled his way down the hallway to the nearest bathroom. Entering, he shut the door behind him before slipping his hand into his pocket and grabbing the ring he'd hastily stashed there while in the Nexus. To be honest, he'd been surprised to feel it there when he'd… woken up. Returned. Whatever. But since it was here, he was going to take advantage of it to get a head start on his mission. After staring at the Potter ring for a few seconds, Harry slipped it back onto his ring finger and watched it make a few minute adjustments to compensate for his fifteen-year-old body's slightly more slender fingers. When it stopped moving, he closed his eyes and focused. A ring and the wife to wear it. How was he supposed to picture his future wife when he had no idea who the Reapers were picking out for him? Maybe… just a generic, shadowy female figure in a girls' uniform? Harry felt an odd pull on his magic akin to when he cast his patronus, and then a loud pop made him stumble back in surprise, eyes shooting open. Standing in front of him - and looking just as confused as he felt - was a girl roughly his own age wearing a ridiculously tight black and yellow outfit. Then understanding dawned on her face and she looked him over before sighing loudly. "Holy crap. She told me you were a disaster, but I was thinking 'send in the National Guard' level disaster, not a 'call the Avengers' kind of disaster."

"…I'd say I'm a little confused but that'd be a lie. I'm a whole lot of confused at the moment." Taking advantage of the momentary silence, Harry looked over the girl he assumed was the future Missus Potter. An inch or two shorter than him, she had short auburn hair that was a richer red than Ginny's - a bit like the photos he'd seen of his mother, actually - and Ravenclaw blue eyes. Moving further down, Harry did his best to avoid blurting out something thoroughly Ron-like. He wasn't sure if it was solely the outfit - which was far tighter than anything he'd seen a girl at Hogwarts wearing - or whether they just didn't grow them like that in the wizarding world but… bloody hell. Not wanting to be caught ogling her, Harry shook his head and offered her his hand. "Right then. I'm Harry Potter. I'm guessing you already know that from the 'she told me' bit." The girl nodded. "Ah. See, the thing is, I don't know anything about you. At all. Or any of the other wives that are going to come after you, for that matter. Michelle just told me 'five wives' and then sent me back."

The girl frowned briefly at that revelation before shrugging, ignoring the offered hand. "Eh, we'll make do. And before you even ask, I only got the basics about the situation and you personally from Michelle and Pepper before they sent me back. Pretty much just that your name is Harry Potter, that you're a wizard with a big evil wizard nemesis to fight, that you seem to get into life-threatening trouble at least once a school year, that you've died a whole bunch of times before this last one, and that you're a fashion disaster. Although when Pepper told me fashion disaster, I was picturing something like Stephen. This is just…" She waved her hand at Harry's body. "…yikes?"

Harry looked down at the typical Dursley hand-me-downs he'd thrown on for his return to Little Whinging before scowling. It wasn't like he had a lot of options; there was no way in hell that he was going to wear anything even remotely wizarding around them, and using money withdrawn from his Gringotts vault to buy clothes he could wear back into the muggle world… had honestly never occurred to him before now. His friends, either fully or at least partially aware of his circumstances, had never said anything about what he wore. Now, for the first time, he was being confronted head on with the state of his belongings and it engendered equal parts shame and anger. "Sorry that all I own are the clothes that my relatives forced on me after my whale of a cousin outgrew them. That must be so humiliating for you." Before she could say reply - and without really thinking about what he was doing - Harry drew his wand and waved it over his body. His magic jumped to respond to a command that he wasn't wholly aware he was giving it, streaming down his arm and through his wand to transfigure his baggy shirt and trousers into a smart, three-piece black suit with a Gryffindor red tie, his battered trainers turning into a pair of shiny black dress shoes to complete the outfit. "Better?"

…how the hell had he just done that? While he wasn't entirely bad at transfiguration, it certainly wasn't his strongest subject and such a complex and detailed transformation of several objects simultaneously should have been well outside of his abilities. _'Well, I decided against giving you all the knowledge you'd need to succeed this time around because that's what your wives are for… but that doesn't mean I sent you back entirely empty-handed.'_

_'Michelle?'_

_'In your flesh. Sorta. Sometimes. I've got other things to do, mind you, but I'm keeping half an eye on you just to try and prolong the inevitable.'_

Great. So not only was he getting stuck with a pile of wives he knew nothing about, but now he had a little voice inside his head, too. Wasn't that just fabulous? He was drawn from his thoughts when the redhead waved her hand in front of his face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. With everything I've seen and done, I should know better than to judge someone based on their looks. Even if it's part of one of my jobs." Reaching out, she tugged his wand out of his hand and tucked it behind her ear in a move that reminded Harry of Luna before taking his hand and shaking it. "Anyway, I'm Janet. Soon to be Janet Potter, until then Janet van Dyne, and at two points Janet Pym. Superheroine, occasional television show host, fashion designer, and independently wealthy socialite. Although I don't think that last one counts anymore, since I doubt they moved my bank accounts over to this world for me…"


End file.
